


Folie a deux

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower (TV), Hornblower - C. S. Forester
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the <a href="http://aos-flashfic.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://aos-flashfic.livejournal.com/"></a><b>aos_flashfic</b> "voyeurism" challenge</p><p>Originally posted 12-24-06</p>
    </blockquote>





	Folie a deux

**Author's Note:**

> For the [](http://aos-flashfic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://aos-flashfic.livejournal.com/)**aos_flashfic** "voyeurism" challenge
> 
> Originally posted 12-24-06

Maria closes her eyes and rests her hand on her stomach, feeling the slight swell of it beneath her blue sack dress. She knows that Horatio disapproves of it, but it is the best dress she has and the only one that would serve for such an occasion. She sighs softly under her breath and makes soft promises to her unborn child and aching feet that the night will soon be over.

She shifts and turns her head, watching as the other husbands and wives mill about the room, talking and laughing at things Maria doesn’t pretend to understand. She stays near the shadows, not wanting to draw any further attention to herself, not wishing to embarrass Horatio any more than she knows she already has.

Laughter comes from the other room and she smiles in its wake. Laughter has been lost since the death of her children, and she can only hope that this child, this sweet promise in her belly, will bring it back to her house, bring her husband back home.

The laughter changes, grows softer, huskier. Maria catches her breath, knowing the faint sound that follows, the low rumble that has murmured across her skin. She turns her head and sees a flash of movement, a hint of fabric and shadow and she moves toward it, her heart pounding, her breath painful in her lungs as she moves along the darkened corridor, until she can hear them, see them as they stand too close together.

“We mustn’t,” Lady Barbara whispers, her hands raised to Horatio’s face, fingers stroking the sharp cheekbones, the fan of lines that bracket his eyes. “You mustn’t.”

He huffs a breath – a laugh, Maria realizes – and leans in, stealing the breath he lost back from Lady Barbara’s parted lips. “I am not.”

She laughs as well, the sound pitched low and private, ringing like a cacophony in Maria’s head. Lady Barbara’s hands continue moving, touching Horatio’s face as if to learn it, memorize it. Her fingers are swift and sure, tracing his sun-warmed skin before she splays them against his cheeks, and leans in, the promise of a kiss poised on her darkened lips. “We mustn’t.”

He nods and kisses her, his lips parting easily as they find hers. Maria bites her lower lip and watches the abandon in Horatio’s kiss, the easy grace with which he gives himself to Lady Barbara. Maria drops her hand to her stomach, rubbing the slight swell again, telling herself to turn around, to walk away.

“Horatio,” Lady Barbara whispers, breathing roughly in the shadowed dark. “We should get back. My husband…your wife.”

“True. Maria will notice me gone.” He shakes his head and kisses Lady Barbara again. “Though perhaps she has found the one person in all the room she has not yet told of my exploits.” He chuckles low and tastes Lady Barbara’s lips again. “A servant, perhaps.”

”Horatio. She is your greatest champion.”

He touches Lady Barbara’s face with his long fingers, stroking her skin like the finest silk, the curve of a sail. Maria’s hand fists on her stomach, pressing hard against the swell of it. “I need no champion. You know what I need, Lady Barbara.”

The baby moves and Maria grinds her teeth together, holding in a sob. They move together again, heedless of what they do, what sins they commit. Maria’s fist digs into her stomach, the beloved life held there suddenly as sour as bile in her throat. He had touched her so gently that night, had _loved_ her, and it was all a lie. He had not loved _her_. He had taken another bride to bed that night and planted the seed in Maria’s womb while Lady Barbara’s husband had failed to do the same for her.

Maria takes a step back, watching as Barbara - _a Lady no more_ \- strokes her hands across the warm wool of Horatio’s jacket, settles one over the heavy beat of his heart. Their mouths meld together, hands so careful to leave everything in place, sacrificing instead to touch flesh where no marks can be found, no wrinkles left to tell the tale.

Maria turns, uncaring if the swirl of her skirts catches their eye. She flattens her hand on her stomach and wonders how this baby will survive inside her, wonders how it will live on nothing but her blood and body, wonders if it can survive without her love.

She watches from her space along the wall, her hands shaking as Horatio approaches her, his dark eyes bright with emotion, with passion. Perhaps this child is like her husband and needs not even that much from her, will thrive no matter that she cuts it out of her heart as she cannot from her stomach.

Maria doesn’t feel his touch as he guides her to the door, doesn’t feel the polite bow and smile she offers her husband’s lover at the door. She won’t feel anything again, and soon enough she’ll present him with his child, Barbara’s child.

And then she will be done.  



End file.
